The Pangs of Focused Regret

(inspired by a photo from killermuffin)

The age of time reflects the foe that hides
In days too dim recalled to light our way.
But what is it that jars our wanderlust
And sends a silent tune to tease our play?

They stretch along the streets we pass each day
To focus eyes ahead on goals we vow.
Oh, seldom glance we left and right to see
A sight familiar then, but not so now.

Around each corner lies a life renewed -
Some old, some kind, or weathered,rust, and glued.